


The Game

by truth_renowned



Series: The Game [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, smut-lite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7707802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy returns from an undercover mission to find a disheveled Daniel. From a tumblr prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kar98k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kar98k/gifts).



She walked up the porch steps, scratching at the blonde wig. It had been a long day, a long mission, really. ‘We need you for this, Peggy,’ Jack had said. ‘Just a few days, Peggy,’ Jack had said. Two weeks and a few bruises later, here she was.

The wig itched, and the beaded emerald green evening gown was heavy and hot. Why she hadn't change before her flight, she didn't know. Actually, she did know. As soon as possible, she wanted to be right here. Home. It was the same reason she didn't drive to the SSR office and change. Plus the fact that she was bone-tired and didn’t care if the neighbors thought she was some strange overdressed woman standing on the Sousa porch.

She dug in the clutch for her keys but couldn’t find them. She sighed. Her house keys were in her locker at the office. She turned back to the car, then turned to the door again. She really did not want to drive to the office. Instead, she rang the doorbell.

Her eyes widened as he opened the door. His hair was mussed, curls flopping over his forehead and sticking up in the back. His button-down shirt was wrinkled and smudged with dirt. His shirtsleeves were pushed up over his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms, also streaked with dirt. He was a disheveled mess, she thought, and he looked good enough to eat.

He leaned against the doorframe. “Well, hello, gorgeous. Can I help you?”

For a split second, she thought he didn’t recognize her, but the mischievous smile on his face told her otherwise. Very well, she thought, two can play that game.

“Good evening, sir. I’m afraid I might be lost,” she said in the sing-song American accent she’d adopted for the mission. 

“What, or who, are you looking for? Maybe I can be of service.”

“You're too kind.” She looked him up and down. “You look a bit harried. Did I interrupt something?”

“I was looking for some papers and ended up rearranging the office.”

“Sounds perfectly boring.” She couldn't help but smile. They worked so much and so hard that sometimes they forgot how to have fun. This was far too much fun, and she wasn't about to stop.

“You have something more interesting in mind, miss?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then, please, come in.” He stepped aside, and she entered the house.

“Do you often invite strange women into your home?”

“Only certain strange women.” His gaze raked over her as if he was undressing her with his eyes. He probably was, and she was perfectly fine with that.

“So what’s your name, handsome?”

“Daniel. Yours?”

“Linda.”

“Linda? Hmmm, you don't look like a Linda to me.”

“Then what do I look like?”

“A dream come true.”

She smiled. “You are quite the smooth talker.” She walked through the living room, heading straight to the office. Despite the fun, she was curious about what rearranging he had done. Before she had left, their shared office was two desks, two chairs, an empty bookcase and two-dozen boxes. The rest of the house wasn't much better, as they had just moved in a month before she went on the mission.

She heard the clinking of his crutch close behind her as she walked down the hall. “Nice place you got here, Daniel.”

“It's mostly in boxes but it's getting there.”

She walked into the office and held back a gasp. Every box was unpacked, and all of the books were arranged by subject in the bookcase. Both of their desks had lamps, typewriters and other office supplies neatly placed.

“You've been busy,” she said, sitting on the edge of his desk. 

“You've been gone a long time.” He closed the distance between them, standing directly in front of her.

“How is that possible since we've just met?” She wasn't ready to let go of this game just yet. 

“I see.” His hand cupped her cheek briefly, then his fingers burrowed in the blonde wig. “You know, normally I prefer brunettes but I'll make an exception in this case.”

“Rather forward, aren't we, Daniel?” Her palm flattened on his chest, though not pushing him away.

“Forgive my manners.” He untangled his hand from her hair and took a step back.

“I didn't say it was unwanted,” she said, grabbing his shirt in her fist and pulling him forward. 

He stumbled but caught himself, his hands landing on either side of her hips. She took the brunt of his weight happily, crashing her lips to his. The kiss was brutal, even by their standards. She opened her mouth to him, taking the initiative and pushing her tongue forward. He met her stroke for stroke, just as he always did. 

She pulled him closer, her hands on his neck, in his hair, on his shoulders, moving constantly as if he might disappear if she didn't keep her hands on him at all times.

Breathless, he pulled his lips from hers. “I've missed you so much, Peg.”

“Linda,” she whispered.

“Linda. Okay, _Linda_. Turn around.”

“Whatever for?”

“You'll see.”

She turned, putting her hands on the desk. One of his hands wrapped around her waist, and the other pushed the blonde hair away from her shoulder. She sighed as his lips caressed her neck. Without thinking, she pushed her hips back, reveling in the moan that reverberated against her skin.

“This dress is beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, “but I want it off of you right now.”

She laughed through a moan as he unzipped the gown, pushing the fabric from her shoulders. Before the dress hit the floor, his hands were unhooking her brassiere, which followed the dress’s descent.

“You're _very_ forward, Daniel,” she sighed.

She gasped as his hands cupped her breasts. She had ached to feel his touch the minute she stepped on that plane to New York. Two weeks was far too long to be away. She had gone how many years without a man touching her this way, and now she couldn't bear even a day without him.

She moaned as his fingers pinched her nipples, tugging lightly as his teeth nipped at her shoulder. She ground her hips into his, smiling triumphantly at his groan.

“Can I call you Peggy now?”

“If you keep doing that, you can call me whatever you want.”

She felt and heard his chuckle against her neck. “Welcome home, Peg.”

She smiled as she turned in his arms. The game was over but the fun was just beginning.


End file.
